I came back into the living room from hanging up clothes, and there he was, curled up in a ball covering his eyes behind our couch. His face was pressed to the carpet and his little four year old booty was up in the air.
“Umm. Sweet boy, what’s wrong? What are you hiding from?”
He refused to lift his face.
“There’s a bad part!” He exclaimed, his voice muffled by the rug.
“Well, we’ve watched this movie plenty of times. We always fast forward past the scary part. I know you don’t like the mean bird in this movie.”
“No! Momma! Turn it off! I don’t wanna see it. It’s a bad movie.”
I am not sure why, but I tried to continue to reason with him. “Buddy, we have never watched the part that scares you. Mommy knows. Mommy always goes past it. The rest of the movie is funny and good and the monkeys dance and the birds are silly.”
He realized well before I did that discussing this was pointless. He was not budging and had no intentions to until I turned the movie off.
As I walked to find the remote, I wondered how many times I have acted just like my little four year old.
Face pressed in my hands eyes squeezed shut, terrified of something that I will never have to see. Determined to keep my head down because of something that might be coming. Refusing to participate in something that would bring me joy because of something later that might take it away.
The posture of a fearful life.
I was thinking about the great acts of faith in Scripture. The big ones. The ones listed in Hebrews whose photos hang in the Faith hall of fame: Abel, Noah, Abraham. Each placing life in the hands of the Creator. Each trusting the Lord with what was most precious to them. Each reflecting God’s faithfulness through their obedience.
The writer of Hebrews writes each an overture of praise commending the mighty acts that show us what we can achieve through faith.
And I thought of my own life. I wondered and worried if the things I had done for the Lord would ever be good enough to be mentioned next to the GREATS.
And then I heard the voice of my precious Father.
“There is no greater act of faith than trusting me with your soul, believing that my Son was more than enough, and then living like it means something now.”
It is clear to me that we haven’t just been saved for the good parts. When we were set free from sin or the stuff that separated us from reaching the Father it wasn’t so we could hide behind the couch. We haven’t been saved to keep our heads down and our eyes shut until we reach eternity. We have been saved to look to the Father and trust Him through the scary stuff.
How can we say that we trust Him, if we give Him our eternity but not our today? How can we say we believe Him if we know that He will save our souls but doubt that He will rescue our situations? How can we possibly have faith in the Father if we don’t live like His Son?
Our names are listed in the Faith hall of fame as well, because there is no greater faithfulness than the acceptance of the Son’s sacrifice and the devotion of our lives to Him… And sometimes great faith just looks like standing up and uncovering our eyes.
Lord, forgive me for the times that I chose to hide rather than trust you. Forgive me for the times that I covered my eyes instead of looking into yours. Teach me as a child, Lord, of your goodness. Remind me of your faithfulness, because it isn’t my faithfulness that saves me, it is yours.
